


Travelin' Soldier

by lhknox



Series: the yeehaw series [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Drama, Epistolary, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 05:36:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19078549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lhknox/pseuds/lhknox
Summary: "I hope this letter finds you in good spirits and I hope Midvale is treating you well. I’m very glad I bumped into you at Noonan’s. The thought of you reading this letter and maybe sending me one back makes me a lot more excited than it should. I guess it feels good to have a sort of friend."///Lena finds a friend as she heads into a warzone.





	Travelin' Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> can u believe it took me a year of begging for a travelin' soldier au for me to give in and write it myself 
> 
> based on one of the saddest songs you'll ever listen to.
> 
> anyway i made myself cry while i wrote this enjoy xx

_ Dear Kara, _

 

_ I’m not sure it’s hit me yet, that I'm in a new country, let alone one currently ravaged by war. Until now, the furthest from home I’ve ever been was going to Canada with my father on a business trip as a young girl. Part of me wonders if I’ve made a mistake -- the chaos scares me and the soldiers are all much too weary. I suppose, though, I’m here to make a difference and that’s all that matters.  _

 

_ People are nice enough, though all the niceties in the world cannot make up for how uncomfortable my bed is and the hot chocolates from Noonan’s that I seem to be missing more and more. I have, however, been drawing a lot more than I had been at home, which is a pleasant surprise. I’ll add a little sketch I did the other day to the envelope and you can let me know what you think of my art skills; I remember you painting all the time while we were in school.  _

 

_ I hope this letter finds you in good spirits and I hope Midvale is treating you well. I’m very glad I bumped into you at Noonan’s. The thought of you reading this letter and maybe sending me one back makes me a lot more excited than it should. I guess it feels good to have a sort of friend. _

 

_ All the best, _

 

_ Lena Luthor. _

 

///

 

Lena was sitting by herself. 

 

That fact alone didn’t surprise Kara; Lena Luthor seldom had company when she came to the diner. 

 

But Lena was sitting by herself and she was fiddling with the salt shaker and an oversized green duffle bag sat on the booth seat next to her. There was a look on her face that Kara had never seen before, her usually emotionless face had a small crinkle in the brow and she was chewing on her bottom lip.

 

_ Oh, she’s nervous _ , thought Kara.  _ Lena looks nervous. _

 

Kara knew Lena in middle and high school and she was the type of person who was hard to forget. Between her bright green eyes and shiny black hair, and the rumors that constantly followed her, she had always been something of a Midvale celebrity. The illegitimate child of a millionaire, Lena had been stashed away in Midvale, cared for by an army of nannies and cooks in the big house at the top of Frenchmans Hill. At school, she had always been aloof and friendless; everything about her would exude ‘I’m too good for this place’. She always wore the latest fashions and she was the top in all her classes and the last Kara had heard, she was at Sarah Lawrence getting her degree in something fancy.

 

But the Lena that sat in the booth was different to the Lena that Kara remembered. She wore simple jeans and a white button up shirt and her hair was cropped short and reminded Kara of Twiggy. 

 

Looking back on that moment, Kara was never sure what possessed her to go over and talk to Lena Luthor, but she sure was glad she did.

 

She approached the table, wiping her hands on her apron as she went. She hovered over Lena for a moment before speaking, not exactly sure what to say. Before she could say anything, Lena looked up and in an astonishing turn of events, Lena smiled at her.

 

“Hello,” she said, still smiling.

 

“You probably don’t remember me,” Kara replied. “I was in school with you, I’m--”

 

“Kara Danvers. Of course I remember.” She gestured to the seat in front of her. “Would you like to join me?”

 

Kara hesitated. “My shift only ends in an hour.”

 

“Ah,” Lena replied, disappointed.

 

“But if you want to hang around, I’ll come back as soon as I can?” Kara added quickly. “In the meantime I’ll get you a refill on your coffee.”

 

“That would be lovely, Kara. Thank you.”

 

Kara spent the rest of her shift on edge, the looming presence of Lena making her nervous for some reason. Finally clocking out, she rushed back to Lena’s table. 

 

“Hey,” she said, slightly out of breath. “What’s up?”

 

Lena smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. “I’m going on a trip and I’m a bit nervous.”

 

“Where are you going!” Kara asked, her face lighting up. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “How exciting!”

 

“Not exactly. I’m going to Vietnam as a photojournalist.”

 

The smiled slipped right off Kara’s face. “Lena, that’s--”

 

“I’ve heard enough lectures about how stupid and dangerous it is,” Lena said. “I don’t need it from anybody else, especially not you.”

 

_ Especially not you?  _ Kara wasn’t sure what that meant, but decided to leave it alone for the time being.

 

“I was gonna say that’s ridiculously brave,” Kara replied. “I mean… I’m scared for you. But people need to see what horrors are happening. You’re like… courageous.”

 

“I’m not sure about that… I’m shit scared, to be honest.”

 

Kara smiled softly; swears sounded like the sweetest honey coming out of Lena’s mouth.

 

“Well I’m sure that’s only natural. So you studied photojournalism at Sarah Lawrence?”

 

“You know I went to Sarah Lawrence?” Lena asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

 

“Of course. You were one of the coolest kids in school, everybody knew everything about you.”

 

Lena laughed loudly, melodic and beautiful to Kara’s ears. “People knew everything about me because this town is filled with gossips who care too much about my parentage.”

 

“Not me,” Kara replied. “I just… I always thought you were sensational. Terrifying, and impossible to talk to, obviously. But sensational.”

 

“You don’t have to lie to me just because I’m headed into a warzone, Kara.”

 

“Right.” Kara had forgotten the very sombre reason she was sitting with Lena Luthor. “When do you leave exactly?”

 

“Taking a bus out of town at about 10pm.”

 

“What’re you doing til then? I assume going and saying goodbye to your family?”

 

“My mother’s in Metropolis, my brother’s on the run for being a draft dodger, and my nannying staff all left once I turned eighteen.”

 

“So you have nobody here?”

 

“Nobody here,” Lena echoed. “And nobody to write to while I’m over there.”

 

“That’s… Lena, that’s the pits.”

 

Lena threw her head back, laughing even louder than before.

 

“Yeah,” she managed to say between laughing. “It’s totally the pits.”

 

“I know what you should do!” Kara exclaimed, ignoring Lena’s laughter. “Come over to my place. Eliza - she’s my foster mom - she’ll put you together a real nice meal before you go. We’ve got plenty of time!”

 

Lena began to shake her head, but paused, as she thought through the offer. “You know what?” That sounds lovely.”

 

///

 

_ Dear Lena, _

 

_ Thank you for sending me your letter! I was so excited to receive it, I showed it off to all the girls at Noonan’s and all my family and other friends. They tell me I shouldn’t be as excited as I was, but I think they’re just jealous they don’t have cool, brave photojournalist friends like I do.  _

 

_ I don’t think there’s much you’ve missed back home so far. Alex is back in town for a bit so she drove me to Hunterville so we could see that new film The Graduate. I really liked it but Alex’s roommate Maggie didn’t like it so much. It has a great song in it by Simon and Garfunkel that Alex is trying to learn on the guitar. I started re-reading Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth time and it’s still just as good. I still love Elizabeth and Darcy’s relationship as much as I did the first time I read it, and it’s the type of love I hope to find one day. Do you dream of love, Lena? No offence but I imagine you’d be more of a Mr. Darcy than anybody else. I have always said you’re swoon-worthy.   _

 

_ News coverage of the war over here is bleak and terrible, I can only imagine what it must be like to be there in person. Unfortunately, I also assume that you have plenty of things to take photographs of. And I’m sure that as sad as their content is, you’ve probably taken some beautiful photographs. I hope to see them soon. _

 

_ Please know that I am thinking of you here back home. I’m not really a religious person, but I find myself praying for you multiple times a day. Stay safe, Lena. And send me more letters when you can. _

 

_ Thinking of you, _

 

_ Kara _

 

_ P.S. Your sketch was beautiful!!! Truly gorgeous. I don’t know why you remember my paintings from school, they weren’t good at all -- there’s a reason I gave it up! _

 

///

 

Eliza, as it turned out, had been making her famous chicken soup and matzo balls all day and was more than happy to set another place at the table for Lena.

 

“So Lena,” Eliza asked as they sat down at the table. Alex was home for the weekend with her roommate Maggie, though Lena suspected they may be more involved than that. “What did you study at Sarah Lawrence and how did it get you all the way here?”

 

“I had a double major in public policy and art history, but always loved photography. My stepmother bought me a camera for Christmas when I was ten, and I’ve been obsessed with it ever since.”

 

“Was that before or after she had you dumped in Midvale?” Alex asked.

 

“Alex!” Kara and Eliza said in unison.

 

“I’m sorry but it’s just a bit rich that Lena Luthor wants to go over to Vietnam when it’s people like her father making money off the war and the people getting killed. All those bombs and bullets have LuthorCorp written on the side of them.”

 

“But maybe this isn’t the time to talk about it,” Maggie offered, and Lena watched as her hand disappeared under the table, presumably resting on Alex’s knee. Interesting.

 

“It’s okay,” Lena said, before turning to Alex. “You’re right. Men like my father make money in wartime. It’s why I very publicly refused a graduate position at his company, even though it would’ve been groundbreaking to have a woman in the role I was offered. It’s also why I got a job at The Daily Planet-- to report the truth about the war to the rest of the world.”

 

Alex leaned back in her seat, accepting her answer.

 

“So you’re not going to apologise?” Kara asked.

 

“It’s not in Alex’s nature to apologise,” Maggie laughed affectionately. “I’ve learnt that lesson a few times.” 

 

Kara continued to glare at her sister and eventually Alex squirmed beneath her stare.

 

“Sorry,” she relented, finally conceding.

 

“Don’t mention it,” Lena replied. She wasn’t too sure why Kara was being so nice to her when Lena had completely ignored her in high school, but she supposed that was just who Kara was: too nice for her own good, and willing to give undeserving people second chances.

 

///

 

_ Kara, _

 

_ Sorry it’s been so long since my last letter, it’s been getting harder to find both time and quiet to write with, as well as dealing unreliable mailing systems. I’ll add The Graduate to my list of things to catch up on when I get home. Already on that list is normal showers, your foster mother’s chicken soup, The Carol Burnett Show and Bewitched. It’s funny you compared me to Darcy because that isn’t the first time that’s happened. Many a partner in the past has accused me of the same thing. I mean, I am a single woman with a good fortune, but not sure I’m in want of a wife just yet.  _

 

_ You’re also right in assuming that there is a plethora of things for me to photograph over here. Despite the conditions forced upon them, the Vietnamese people I meet are kind and generous, which is a lot more than I would be if the roles were reversed. The war is hard on people who have nothing to do with the governments that fight them. Familial guilt still weighs heavily on my shoulders as I try and do my part to bring this war to an end; the world needs to see what is happening and I’ll do my best to make that happen. I’ve sent through a few rolls of film to my editor in the past couple of weeks, so if you come across the Daily Planet and it has my photos in there, please send me some clippings if you can.  _

 

_ Don’t sell your school paintings short, I remember being mesmerized by your use of color, by the life you managed to breathe into your landscapes. I’ll send another sketch for you, but only on the condition you send me something back, too. I know we weren’t friends before I left, but I think we are friends now and I hope it is not too strange for me to say I miss you. In any case, I miss you. _

 

_ Yours, _

 

_ Lena _

 

_ P.S. To answer your question in the last letter, yes, I do dream of love, much more often than I’d like to admit. I dream of finding a love so raw and unadulterated that people are jealous of the adoration with which I stare at my soulmate. Your question made me laugh though; I think it would be strange if we didn’t dream of love. It’s what we crave, what we yearn for, just to be loved by another and to love them back. I dream of it even though I don’t think I’ll ever find the love I’m looking for -- I don’t think the world is ready for it yet. _

 

///

 

The night was still and solemn as Kara stood next to Lena. In front of them, soon-to-be soldiers boarded the bus and families said their tearful goodbyes. She could feel Lena’s nerves radiating off her as she drummed her hand against her thigh.

 

Kara reached out, taking her hand and squeezing it. Lena squeezed back, harder, firmer. 

 

“I’m really getting on that bus,” she said, adjusting her bag with her free hand.

 

“You don’t have to,” Kara replied, but Lena just laughed.

 

“Yes I do. This feels like something I was born to do.”

 

“Are you scared?”

 

Lena smiled. “Terrified.” And then she said, “Can I ask you something, Kara?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Well the thing is… Would you mind if I wrote you letters while I was over there? There’s nobody in my life to keep in contact with and I’d like somebody to know that I’m doing okay, or… or not.”

 

Kara dropped Lena’s hand, instead pulling her in for a hug.

 

“I’ll write you, too, as often as I can,” she promised, a small whisper in Lena’s ear. “Until you come home.”

 

But in that moment, it was all she needed. It would keep her going. She would come back home to Kara.

 

///

 

_ Dear Lena, _

 

_ I hope this letter finds you in good health. There’s a lot I want to comment on from your last letter, but I’m unsure where to start, or how to say what I want to say. _

 

_ A few months ago Alex confided in me and told me that Maggie isn’t just her roommate, but also, well, her lesbian lover. It was surprising, very surprising, but I love my sister and I love that she is with a person who makes her as happy as she currently is. I hadn’t thought about the struggles of gay and lesbians much before that, but seeing how much Alex and Maggie have both been through… People who are brave enough to live their lives as gay or lesbian are stronger and more authentic than any other person. _

 

_ I apologise if I misread the subtext of your last letter, but I want you to know that I am proud of you, no matter whom you love. I am proud of the person you are, the person you are striving to be, and everything in between. And I firmly believe that you will find the love you’re looking for, with the right person. If you want, I can try and find somebody to set you up with! I’m sure Alex has plenty of single friends who would be interested in somebody as intelligent, funny, compassionate and drop dead gorgeous as you. In fact, the more I think about this, the more this sounds like a good idea. I’ll find the perfect girl for you, something for you to look forward to when you come home. _

 

_ I managed to track down some Daily Planets with your photographs in them. I bought multiple copies in case the ones I’m sending you get ruined somehow. Some of these took my breath away. I knew you were talented before, but wow, Lena. These are something else. As promised, I’ve also sent along a little something I painted for you. Watercolor, nothing special. Well actually that’s a lie. It’s special because I made it specially for you.  _

 

_ And as for your frankly ridiculous question, of course we are friends. The more I read the words you write me, the more I begin to think that maybe you are my best friend. I don’t know if that’s too forward, but you have quickly become one of the most important people in my life. And I’ll say this next part a thousand times if I have to: I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. _

 

_ Stay safe. Stay determined. Stay proud. _

 

_ Missing you! _

 

_ Kara _

 

///

 

Kara could always sense bad news. She had sensed it the day her parents died and she sensed it again when she had woken up that morning. 

 

It was a Friday and the high school football team had a home game, the first in a long time.

 

“Come on,” Alex said. “You need to get out and have a good time!”

 

“I have a shift at Noonan’s,” Kara replied. “I can’t just skip work.”

 

“I already spoke to Mrs Noonan and she said you’re free as a bird.”

 

“Fine,” Kara conceded. “But only if you bring Maggie along.”

 

Alex laughed. “Of course I’m bringing Maggie along, it’s football and we’re lesbians.”

 

“I just hate having to stand there and hear the names they read out of all those poor boys who’ve died. I’m scared-- what if, what if Lena--”

 

“I know,” Alex said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “But you have to trust that you’ll get another letter soon enough. She’s okay, I’m telling you.”

 

“How are you so sure?” Kara asked, her voice pleading for her sister’s comfort and for the sadness in her heart to dissipate altogether.

 

“Sometimes you just have to believe it.”

 

So she followed Alex and Maggie to a football game she didn’t want to go to and she stood in the cold winter air while they sand the anthem. 

 

And then the local sheriff walked up to the microphone, and bowed his head.

 

“Folks, before tonight’s game let’s take a moment to honor the brave men from our town who are currently serving our country.”

 

Kara grabbed wildly for Alex’s hand, and squeezed it tightly. 

 

“David Dickson - killed in combat. Marcus Fellows - killed in combat.”

 

He read each name slowly, taking his time to give the dead honor and respect. The crowd stayed quiet, heads bowed, and all the while Kara chanted the same thing over and over again in her head.

 

_ Not Lena. Not Lena. Not Lena. _

 

“And I am sorry to announce that Ms. Lena Luthor who has been working in Vietnam as a photojournalist has been announced missing in action, and presumed dead.”

 

A quiet murmur rang out around the crowd as they recognised her name. And Kara screamed.

 

Kara’s knees gave way; the only thing keeping her standing up was Maggie and Alex on either side of her, gripping her arms tightly. Another strangled cry erupted from her lips as the heavy weight of loss crashed down onto her. 

 

“No!” she wailed, her heart empty, her soul drowning. “Lena!” Her limbs felt heavy as she tried to gain control over her movements, but she couldn’t do anything but let Alex support hold her up. She let Alex and Maggie lead her off the bleachers and to the car. She didn’t care if she was making a scene, she didn’t care about anything at all.

 

Lena was gone.

 

Lena wasn’t coming home.

 

///

 

_ Dear Friend, _

 

_ Once again, I apologise for the delay in letter writing. Clearly I’m not as subtle as I want to be -- you understood exactly what I was trying to say in my last letter. I’ve known who I am for a very long time, and it’s part of the reason my family has become even more distant these past few years. My father’s job offer was an olive branch of sorts, but one that came with conditions: I wouldn’t be allowed to live my authentic life. So to hear that you are proud of me, that I have your support in this endeavour… it means the absolute world to me. Alex is lucky to have you as a sister and I am lucky to have you as a friend. _

 

_ Things here are getting more and more intense. I’ve avoided telling you about the worst parts of it this far, but I fear it’s all getting to be a bit too much. There is only so much death one can see, and I think I’ve reached my limit. But I’m not coming home, not yet, though hope I will be back soon. To be honest with you, you’re the thing that’s keeping me going. When I feel like things are getting to be too much, I think of you. I think of your smile and the way your glasses are always the tiniest bit crooked. I think of little scar above your eye and the way your brow crinkles when you’re frustrated. When I close my eyes, I see you at the diner. I see your pretty smile and the pen you have tucked behind your ear. You’re getting me through this, Kara, you and your letters and your prayers. _

 

_ I don’t know how to say this to you, but some days I don’t know if I’ll make it out of here alive. I’ve seen so many of my colleagues and fellow journalists die horrible deaths, and I wake up every morning assuming that I’m about to follow in their footsteps. I think I have a guardian angel. I think it may be you. I keep your watercolor painting in my front pocket at all times. It reminds me of beauty and of talent and of you. And I hope that if I experience my last moments of life in this hell, I may be able to catch one last glimpse of your painting before I go and I’ll get to think of you one last time.  _

 

_ I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you sad. I’m just tired. I’m so tired, Kara. I want to come home.  _

 

_ All my love, _

 

_ Lena _

 

_ P.S. I don’t know when I’ll have time to write again, but I hope for my sake that it’s soon. As for your offer to set me up with somebody, I think I finally have the courage to tell you about the huge crush I have on a girl back home. She has crooked glasses and a little scar on her eyebrow and she wears a bow in her hair when she works at the diner, always a beautiful blue that matches her eyes. And I’ve liked her very much since I first saw her painting a masterpiece when we were in high school together. She is wonderful, much too wonderful for me or anybody else. And I think I’m falling in love with her. I know I’m falling in love with her. _

 

///

 

A ‘for sale’ sign is put on the Luthor house on Frenchmans Hill, and the sight of it alone made Kara feel ill. 

 

(She tore it down.)

 

The worst part about losing Lena was how everything continued on the same. She still got up and went to work each morning, and she still came home every night. And in between she painted watercolor landscapes of Midvale, each for Lena, wherever she may have been. Life went on and time moved forward. 

 

And Kara missed Lena in every single moment. She saw Lena everywhere she looked, in the children playing in the streets and in the smiles of happy customers she served at Noonan’s. Everywhere she looked, she saw an echo of Lena, the woman she wished she’d known longer, the woman she thought she may have loved.

 

Which is why, when she saw Lena standing on her front porch -- battered, bruised, skinnier than Kara had ever seen her before -- she thought she was hallucinating. It took a moment or two, of Kara staring at her in the morning light as it sunk in. The same green duffle bag sat by her feet and her camera hang around her neck. And she smiled so hard Kara thought her face was about to break. She wasn’t sure any of it was real until,

 

“Hey, Friend,” Lena said, her voice croaky and weathered. Kara surged forward, throwing her arms around Lena and she held onto her as tightly as she could, vowing to herself that she was never going to let go for too long again.

 

“I thought you were gone,” Kara cried into her neck. “I thought you were dead.”

 

“For a minute there, so did I. But I’m here, Kara. I’m home.”

 

Kara let go of Lena, instead, she gently placed her hands on her cheeks, holding her face as delicately as she could.

 

“You’re here,” she said, her eyes still pooling with tears. 

 

“I’m not sure if you got my last letter, but--”

 

Kara cut her off with a kiss, a kiss she had been waiting for, for far too long.

 

She kissed her and she tried to say as much as she could without words. 

 

“I love you,” Lena mumbles into the kiss. “I love, I love, I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” Kara whispered. 

 

Eventually, they’d go inside and Eliza would make them breakfast. 

 

Eventually, they’d move into the house on Frenchmans Hill and they’d brave the rumours that swirled around them both.

 

Eventually, their lives would unfold, always together and always in love.

 

And all the while, Kara kept her letters from Lena in a small box in their room, a reminder of their love in all its messy glory.

 

They found the raw, uncut love they had been searching for all their lives, and they had found it in each other.

**Author's Note:**

> as always im on twitter @ lhknox2 and tumblr @murdershegoat


End file.
